


I Get Up Again

by kinky_kneazle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 23:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/pseuds/kinky_kneazle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the interest of new starts, Neville and Harry offer Draco friendship, as well as a place to stay, while they work to rebuild Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Up Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uniquepov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/gifts).



> With many thanks and much love to uniquepov who is the most wonderful beta a writer could have. This story started as a birthday present for her, and grew beyond my control, so it would truly not exist were it not for her. This has been added to since her last look – any remaining mistakes are completely mine. Originally written for the threesome Big Bang at hp_3forfun.

Harry laughed at the sight Neville made. He'd just wrestled a Clinging Pustulus off of himself and still had a vine wrapped around his neck like a strange necklace. His hair was covered in the green goo the flowers exuded when excited and as Harry watched, it dripped down his cheek.

"One of these days I'm going to tame this thing," Neville said, looking at the plant, which seemed to grin in challenge.

"Can I Vanish the, uh, goo for you?"

"No. It reacts badly to magic. I'd better have a shower."

"Why don't we go for a dip in the lake? It's hot enough."

Neville was eager to agree and they walked from the greenhouse to the lake. The sound of rubble being moved and walls re-erected could be heard from the castle, but on the grounds the sounds were subdued. Harry and Neville had both elected to help repair the grounds, not wanting to be stuck inside over the summer. At least, that's what they'd told McGonagall, but Harry was pretty sure she knew they didn't want to be seeing the dead laid out on the floor of the Great Hall in their minds every day, or the blood stains on the floor as they cleaned and rebuilt.

Harry let Neville jump in and clean off, watching the goo drift away before he waded in to join him. They were the only ones their age who had volunteered for clean-up duty. Ron had stayed home to be with his family over the summer as they mourned Fred, and Hermione had gone to collect her parents and get them resettled. Everyone else had family to look after or friends to grieve, but Neville's grandmother was here helping out and Harry was just himself, really, so they'd jumped in to carry out Professor Sprout's instructions with enthusiasm. It was better than spending the summer thinking of what had gone before, and since Sprout was still in the infirmary, she really needed the help.

"Is that Malfoy?" Neville asked.

Harry lifted his head and saw a glistening of blond moving towards the castle doors.

"Yeah, McGonagall mentioned it. He has to help with the rebuilding as part of the conditions of his probation."

Harry saw Malfoy's glance flick toward them, then he turned once more to the castle and continued his solitary walk.

"He looks tired," Neville said, and he was right. The arrogant tilt to Malfoy's head was gone and his shoulders were hunched in a way Harry hadn't seen before. It looked like he was keeping his head up by sheer force of will.

"Maybe we should invite him to eat dinner with us," Harry said. "He probably won't like eating in the Great Hall either."

Neville and Harry had been sharing Hagrid's hut over the summer.

"You're really ready to forgive him?"

"We can afford to be magnanimous," Harry said with a grin.

"I think he'd hate for us to pity him and thus invite him."

"When did you get so smart?"

Neville's eyes got far away for a second and Harry knew he was thinking of the last year where they'd all learned so much. He was sorry that he'd brought it up, but if they were going to avoid every reminder of the war, they'd never talk at all.

"Come on," Harry said. "I'll race you to the boat shed."

Neville took off straight away and Harry was left half a length behind the entire time.

 

With Transfigured towels around their shoulders, Neville and Harry walked back towards the hut, deciding that they'd done enough for the day. A tall figure in tartan was visible from the lake and an equally tall figure in black stood beside her.

"Neville. Harry," McGonagall said as they approached.

"Good afternoon, Professor," they both replied.

"Draco," Neville added and Harry turned to look at the boy standing beside the Headmistress. He looked thin, almost gaunt. It was six weeks since the final battle and Harry knew that Draco had been in Azkaban since that time. His hair had lost some of its normal shine and his eyes had definitely lost the fire Harry remembered from school boy duels over six years of schooling.

"Boys, may I speak to you inside for a moment?"

Harry and Neville shared a glance before following her inside, leaving Draco standing at the door. The Headmistress looked worried, like she had no idea how to ask what she was going to.

"We were wondering, Headmistress," Harry said. "Would it be alright if Draco stayed out here with us and worked in the greenhouse? Growing boys like us need sunlight, right?"

"And there's really too much work for us to do ourselves," Neville was quick to add.

A look that was clearly relief washed over her face. "I thought, what with his position in the war, that you wouldn't want –"

"He saved my life, Professor," Harry said firmly. "That's why I testified on his behalf."

"And his seventh-year was as hard as mine was."

"Well, he needs to spend the summer working on the reconstruction and I thought, well, some of the people doing rebuilding inside were upset to see him."

"He'll be fine with us, Professor," Neville said.

"You're both," she paused, clearly looking for composure. "Albus would be very proud of you."

That brought the ever-present tears to Harry's eyes and Neville gave him a nudge that was a reminder of their promise to spend the summer concentrating on life, not death. Inviting Draco into their home was part of that. Harry pushed the door open.

"We're having lamb stew, if you're hungry."

Draco gave a silent nod and followed him inside.

 

Two years of war and time in Azkaban had clearly changed Draco Malfoy. Harry watched surreptitiously at the start of dinner, but even when he forgot himself and just stared, his former nemesis didn't make a comment. His skin was wan, with a yellowish tinge, and purple bags marred his face. Worse still were his eyes, which seemed to be filled with such a soul-deep exhaustion that they were almost dead.

He ate in spurts, like Harry often did when he first went to the Burrow during summers. Like he wanted as much as possible because he didn't know where his next meal was coming from, but his stomach had shrunk so much that it couldn't stand more than small amounts of food at a time.

Harry was keeping up a conversation with Neville about their plans for tomorrow and which plants were going to need work, but they kept sharing glances that Malfoy didn't seem to notice.

"We usually get an early start," Harry said, "so we head to bed early."

"You can sleep out here. I'll get some blankets and a pillow, if you Transfigure the couch." Neville moved towards the second room, but Draco didn't move.

"Draco?" Harry said.

"Why are you being so nice to me, Potter?"

"We're sick of fighting, I guess. And my name is Harry."

This pronouncement was met with silence. Draco stayed sitting at the table, his eyes on his hands.

"You're not going to Transfigure the couch to a bed?"

"No!"

Harry stepped back, shocked at the anger in that single word. Neville walked in with pillows and a blanket and broke the tension.

"Your choice, I suppose. Good night, Draco."

Neville murmured his good nights as well, but they were both ignored. Harry quietly closed the door between the bedroom and the living area and tried to forget how small and lost Draco seemed, sitting at Hagrid's oversized table.

Harry shucked his shorts and t-shirt and climbed into bed beside Neville.

"Are we doing the right thing?" Harry asked as he settled into the large bed. "We've spent so long fighting, and now that we've finally found some peace for a while, we've invited one of our tormenters into our space. Obviously McGonagall was hoping we'd take him in, but we need to take care of ourselves first."

"You really think he was one of our tormentors? Harry, the Carrows were my tormentors. Draco was just another scared kid, last year, trying to survive."

"I think he probably had a tattoo on his forearm, before it faded along with his master."

"Snape had that same tattoo, and look what he did. You were the one who said at Draco's trial that he and his mother both lied to keep you alive."

"Snape was still unpleasant, and so is Draco. If he's going to be angry all the time, then our relaxing summer is gone."

"Well, I must admit I preferred you when you were all calm and happy." Neville slid closer, despite the heat, and wrapped his arms around Harry. Harry felt warm lips press against his scar and he moved so that their bodies were pressed tight together, legs tangling. "But if we're serious about this brave new world you keep talking about, then it starts here."

"When did you get so smart, Nev?"

"It was sometime after the first _Crucio_ ," Neville said, smiling wryly.

"Well, forget about that." Harry rolled over, pinning the larger body underneath him. "Make me forget we're sharing our house with the ferret, of all people."

One large, work-roughened hand squeezed his arse, holding him steady as the cock nestled next to his grew hard. "Anything you want, Harry."

 

The next morning, Harry woke Draco up when he wandered out to make breakfast. He'd forgotten that the blond was there and let out a squeal when the bundle on the couch moved. Worse still, he'd wandered out naked and did a quick turn back into the bedroom as soon as he saw those grey eyes gaze at him from the middle of the pillows and blankets.

"You could have reminded me we had Draco out there," he said as the door banged shut behind him.

"Wha?" Neville's eyes opened slowly and then he burst out laughing as he took in Harry's state. "I'm sure he enjoyed the sight as much as I'm enjoying it."

"Hmph," Harry said, pulling on his shorts. "I don't know about that. I'm going to have to start wearing clothes to bed."

"Don't do that."

Harry allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed for a kiss. "You should get up, too, lazybones."

"Yeah. Five more minutes."

Harry pulled a clean t-shirt on – one of Dudley's old ones, which he'd been working in – and braved the living area again.

"Good morning, Draco," he said when he saw their guest was now dressed and sitting on the couch.

"Do you normally show that much in a morning, Potter?"

"Sorry about that. I forgot you were here." Harry only got a grumble in response. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough."

"You know, we really don't mind if you Transfigure the couch. Hagrid wouldn't mind either."

"It's big enough for me, anyway."

If it had been Ron or Hermione, or even Neville, Harry would have teased them about their Transfigurations skill, but he knew that wouldn't go down well here. Instead, he moved through the awkward silence, beating eggs and beginning to fry bacon.

"Smells good, Harry," Neville said as he entered from the bedroom. He was still pulling his t-shirt on and Harry paused to watch the hard abs disappear under the cloth. A quick glance at Draco showed he was looking in the same direction. Interesting.

Neville pulled out three glasses and the pumpkin juice and gestured for Draco to take a seat.

"Did you sleep well, Draco?" Neville asked, and received only a grunt in reply. "Did _you_ sleep well, Harry?" he asked pointedly and Harry saw Draco's lips twist in distaste at the question.

"I did, thank you, Neville. And I'm ready for another day in the greenhouses. Professor Sprout said she wanted the Mandrakes re-potted, didn't she?"

"Yes. Then I thought we could go out to Greenhouse Four and get started on the repairs."

Harry glanced at Draco, still in the same robes he'd been wearing the day before. "You'll need something easier to work in, Draco. I can loan you some shorts and a t-shirt."

Draco nodded silently and Harry frowned as he walked into the bedroom to grab some of his hand-me-downs.

"They're old, but they're perfect for working outside and getting sweaty."

"I – thank you."

Five minutes later, Draco walked back into the living room in his borrowed clothes and Harry tried to hide his surprise. There was a point in time when he'd considered the two of them to be negative images of one another. There were the obvious differences: dark and light, good and bad, Gryffindor and Slytherin. But there were also the physical similarities. They both had that Seeker's build – slim, but still toned and muscular and well-built, so that if they stood side by side, it would be the blond hair compared to black and the pale skin and grey eyes compared to a light tan and that _green_ that everyone commented on. If you were going to differentiate between Harry and Draco, the differences in height and build were negligible at best.

Today, though, Draco looked stick thin. The too-large shorts only emphasized how little meat and muscle were on those bones and Harry had to look away because he suddenly understood what was meant by _painfully_ thin.

"We should get going," Neville said and Harry could hear in his voice how uncomfortable he was.

"The Mandrakes won't plant themselves," he said quickly and he squeezed Neville's hand as he walked past. He didn't look back to see if Draco was following.

 

Re-potting Mandrakes didn't leave much time for conversation, as they all had both ear-plugs blocking the sound and ear-muffs over the top of those to make sure there was no collapsing. Harry observed Draco working and was surprised that there were no complaints and no slacking off. Draco was working harder than Neville and Harry were, his head bent in concentration as he methodically pulled the adolescent Mandrakes out of the soil and plonked them into their new pots. He flinched with every scream, and Harry exchanged a glance with Neville. Maybe it wasn't the best job to start with, but it did need to be done.

They shared sandwiches that the house-elves brought out for them before moving across to Greenhouse Four. Greenhouse Four had taken the most damage in the battle and was no longer really a greenhouse. It was more a wooden skeleton with plants beginning to grow out of control, vines creeping around the wooden pillars and one trunk pushing the remnants of glass out of one of the windows. Between the plants that were now overgrowing were the ones that had been destroyed – pulled up or hexed as the Death Eaters and their allies made their way towards the school.

"I suppose we need to clean up before we can start repairing the actual building," Neville said.

"I might need to get McGonagall to come down and show me how to create glass," Harry murmured. "Start with pulling up and dumping anything unsalvageable?"

"Just check with me about anything that looks alive. I may be able to coax it back to health."

Harry waded in, losing himself in the physical work of pulling up well-established roots and dragging the plants out to a new compost pile.

"Potter, wait!" Harry froze at Draco's words, his hands around the stem of what looked like a twig stuck in the earth. "That's a Fizzing Fig. It can probably be saved. Longbottom!"

Neville came wandering up and had a closer look. "Good catch, Draco. Look here, Harry. You can see the slight buds of green." Harry wondered how he was supposed to have seen that beforehand. The thing looked like it had died five years ago. "How did you recognize it?"

"Mother had one in her greenhouse. She loves figs." Draco looked like he was going to say something more, but in the end kept his lips firmly shut.

"I think you two should tell me where to pull up, or just what I need to drag outside," Harry said into the silence.

"We'll have no problems making use of your brute strength, since you're hopeless for anything else," Neville said with a grin.

Harry glanced at Draco, expecting a comment, a dig, but once again he remained silent, turning back to his work.

After another hour, Harry had had enough. He'd thought that they'd been working hard before, but now the muscles underneath his muscles were sore.

"Quitting time, guys! The squid needs our company."

His stomach flipped at the easy grin Neville sent his way as he wiped sweat from his brow. He propped the shovel against a table and began walking towards the door.

"Coming, Draco?"

"No. Thank you. I'll keep working."

Harry had noticed that Draco always seemed more polite with Neville. Unfortunately, being polite didn't change the rules. "We can't work alone, Draco. It's too dangerous."

"I can't just go swimming, Potter."

"Of course you can. It will cool you down."

"Are you honestly this stupid, Potter? I'm here to work. If someone sees me gallivanting around in the lake instead of working my fingers to the bone and reports it, then I'm back in Azkaban. If you don't want me working in here, then give me something safer to do, but I can't go have fun in the lake. I'm not going back to Azkaban."

Harry felt a hand on his arm. "Come on, Harry," Neville said as he tried to tug Harry away. "Draco can stay here."

"No. The sun was barely up when we started. We've worked a full day, and we can go cool off in the lake. If anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me."

"Don't do me any favours, Potter."

"Asking for help isn't a damned weakness!"

"Harry!" Harry froze at the sound of Neville's raised voice. "Draco doesn't have to swim if he doesn't want to. But you should go back to the hut," he said, turning to Draco. "We've finished work for the day."

 

Draco's mood hadn't improved by the time Harry and Neville returned to the hut, and despite the exhaustion he felt, the tension in their little home brought the nightmares back. Harry woke up in the pitch black night when the door slammed open. Draco stood in the doorway looking around wildly.

"It's just a nightmare," Neville said softly. His voice was pitched to carry to both of him. "Just a nightmare."

Harry was already in Neville's arms, his sweaty back pressed against Neville's chest. He watched Draco slowly relax against the door as Neville's voice filled the room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Neville asked.

"It was the fire." He didn’t need to say which fire; even in the dark he could feel Draco's eyes boring into his. "I grabbed your hand, but we were sweaty. You slipped. I'm sorry."

Draco turned abruptly, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Just a nightmare," Neville murmured and he pulled Harry down onto the bed. Neville's breath settled into a soft snore a long time before Harry fell asleep.

 

No one mentioned their interrupted sleep at breakfast the next morning, though the bags under Draco's eyes were more pronounced than usual and Harry was too tired to cook breakfast. He placed three bowls and a packet of the sugary cereal that Neville liked on the table and sat down heavily.

The silence stayed heavily over them as they walked into Greenhouse Four and continued the work from the day before. Neville and Draco pulled plants up and Harry carted them out. Mid-way through the morning, the physical work began to dissipate Harry's quiet mood and he started humming as he worked.

"Oh, Danny boy, Danny boy, Danny boy," he sang under his breath, and he smiled as Neville joined in.

"I get knocked down, but I get up again! You’re never gonna keep me down. I get knocked down, but I get up again! You’re never gonna keep me down!"

Draco had turned to look at the two of them, yelling at the top of their lungs with no sense of a tune whatsoever.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" he asked when they'd finished. It seemed their song had jolted him out of his quiet mood.

Neville laughed. "That's Muggle music."

"They sing about falling down?"

"And getting back up," Harry said. "They played it a lot on the Muggle radio last year. I kind of adopted it as my song."

"Where were you listening to Muggle music?"

"Potterwatch got a bit too much sometimes. So Hermione and I would switch the station to the local Muggle one and just dance for a bit. Kind of embarrassing to say it out loud like that."

"I think I should like to hear this song sometime."

"That's a good point," Neville said. "The work goes quicker with music. _Accio_ radio!"

The radio zoomed through the broken glass and into Neville's outstretched hand.

"We can get Muggle music out here?"

"It's all just radio waves, Draco. As long as the radio works, which it will since it's a wizarding wireless, it can pick up whatever is out there. We manage to get a couple of Muggle stations out here." Harry fiddled with the dial and soon the strains of Celine Dion began drifting from the speakers.

"It sounds like Celestina Warbeck," Draco said with a wrinkled nose.

"It's Harry's favourite," Neville said.

Harry grabbed an armful of dead vines and wandered out to the compost pile, singing at the top of his voice, "Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that my heart will go oo-oooon."

"Is she being tortured?"

They all froze: Neville with his hands around a Venomous Tentacula, Harry by the door with his arms full of weeds and Draco staring wide-eyed towards the castle. Harry turned to look at him, and saw his mouth open, probably to utter an apology if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"Well, it's about being in love, so is love torture?" Neville said smoothly before Draco could begin to speak.

"We should see the movie," Harry said. "Try to figure out why she sounds so sad."

"Tonight?" Neville asked and Harry nodded. Thankfully a new song started and Celine's tortured voice disappeared, replaced by a grungy sort of song that Harry didn't know. He watched Draco stare at his shoes for a moment, his shoulders clearly shaking as he struggled for control. One breathless moment later and Draco knelt at the base of a Dirigible Plum, pulling weeds from its base. They allowed the music to take the place of conversation for the rest of the afternoon.

 

After dinner Harry and Neville pulled on clean, comfortable clothes in preparation for a night at the movies.

"You coming, Draco?" Harry asked.

"I'm not allowed to leave the castle grounds, Potter. Besides, I hardly think you want me joining you for your social outings."

"Well, we're not leaving the castle grounds, and you were just invited."

"Where are you going to watch a movie on the castle grounds?"

Harry grinned. "Just trust us."

He quickly discovered that Draco was rather annoyingly stubborn and he had a million reasons why he shouldn't go along. He could read the 'leave it alone' in the expression on Neville's face, but he didn't want Draco to think they were holding the earlier gaffe against him.

"I don't want anyone in the castle to see me," Draco finally said, and Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak over his head and dragged him out the door.

They didn't see anyone as they made their way to the seventh floor. This was definitely a good thing, as Draco's breathing became heavier as he realized where they were. Finally, the footsteps behind them stopped and Harry turned to grab Draco again.

"I can't-" The soft voice seemed to come from nowhere. The sound of heels on stone echoed through the space, clearly retreating. Harry's memory of that moment hit him suddenly. Draco's hand clenched tightly in his, the fire licking at their heels. Crabbe's screams as he fell back into the mouth of the fire. His hand clutched at the stone as his knees suddenly went weak. The sound of retching reached past the roaring in his ears.

"Harry?" Neville's hand was on his arm, but Harry shook his head quickly.

"Help Draco."

Neville didn't hesitate. He Summoned the cloak so he could see Draco and walked to the end of the corridor where the egg and chips Draco had eaten for dinner had ended up back on the floor. Harry sank to the floor wondering where his brain had gone. For Neville the room was the haven where he'd lived for much of the last year and he still remembered it as Dumbledore's Army headquarters, but Draco probably didn't have any happy memories of it. He watched Draco shake Neville off and grab the cloak, then they heard him run off towards the stairs.

"What was that about?" Neville asked, walking back to Harry. "Given that you look paler than he usually does at the moment, you obviously know."

"Yeah." Harry glanced at the door that had turned up behind him. "Let's go in, yeah?"

It wasn't the room he was expecting, with a television and comfortable couch, popcorn and drinks. It looked exactly like their old dorm room, except that there was only one bed. Neville pulled him across to it and they climbed onto the soft mattress. Neville moved closer but Harry moved away; he didn't think he could tell this story with the comfort of touch.

"The day of the battle we kicked Ginny out of here. Do you remember?" He wasn't looking at Neville, couldn't tell if he'd nodded, but didn't really care. "Sometimes this room becomes the Room of Lost Things. Things you're trying to hide, that left sock that never turned up again, broomsticks and clothes and furniture and books. And a Horcrux. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle confronted us in here, asking for the Horcrux back, and after we refused, Crabbe conjured Fiendfyre."

He heard Neville's quiet gasp, but kept his gaze on the ceiling.

"We all ran then, but it was bloody Fiendfyre. How can you outrun Fiendfyre?" He heard anguish in his voice. He didn't like the sound of it.

"How did you?"

"There were brooms there. Ron and I grabbed one, and he carried Hermione out. Then I heard Draco calling for help. I went back, tried to grab them. But Draco couldn't keep hold of Goyle." Harry was seeing it in his mind. The heavy weight behind him making the already sluggish broom feel like an ordinary stick under his hands. Draco's strangled cry, the broom suddenly lighter as Draco's hand slipped from his own. "Ron ended up coming back. He saved Goyle." He remembered looking down at the fire that looked alive and sentient and _after_ them. He'd stopped to grab for the diadem, grabbing it seconds before Draco's screams had sent him forward. He set his eyes on the door and kept flying until he was in the corridor and the door was slammed shut behind him. Five seconds later, Draco was fleeing down the corridor and Harry was fighting Death Eaters and witnessing the last moments of Fred Weasley's life.

"Crabbe died in here," he murmured and then Neville was grabbing him and Harry clung to him as he had so many times before, until the shakes had left his body and any tears that might have escaped were well and truly gone. "Make me forget, Nev?"

Neville nodded, and soon Harry was losing himself in Neville's kiss.

 

Some time later, they walked through the deserted halls of the castle, silent despite the fact that there was no longer a need for caution.

"I should have remembered," Harry said and he felt Neville squeeze his hand.

"There are too many traps for you to avoid them all, Harry. We'll both just have to disentangle ourselves when they come up."

Harry didn't let Neville pull his hand away and they walked through the moonlight towards the hut. It was when they reached the last greenhouse that they heard the screaming. With one quick glance, they broke into a run.

Neville's longer legs outstripped Harry and he rushed into the hut shouting Draco's name. It was seconds before Harry caught up and when he walked inside he saw Neville holding Draco tight in a scene that was eerily familiar.

"A nightmare, Draco. It wasn't real," that deep voice murmured.

"Was. I was there."

"It's over now. It's in the past."

Harry took a step forward and saw Draco tense until it seemed his entire body would shatter apart. He stepped back out of the door and sat on the stoop. The murmurs from inside eventually sent him to sleep.

It was the sun that woke him the next morning and every muscle ached from the cold, awkward position that he has spent the night. He pushed the door open as quietly as he was able, and saw that Neville was still on the couch, his arms still held tight around the slighter Draco, spooning in behind him. Harry wasn't sure which hurt more: that Neville had spent the night with Draco in his arms, or that Draco hadn't wanted comfort from him.

Neville's eyes opened as he watched and they met Harry's. Neville was suddenly pale under the tan. Harry gave him a small smile before turning towards the stove to start breakfast. It only took Neville a moment to reach him; the hands on Harry's shoulders felt tentative.

"I didn't make it to bed last night."

"Neither did I," Harry replied.

"Where did you sleep?"

"Under the stars. It was nice," he lied.

The hands finally settled properly and the warm body pressed against his back. "I'm sorry," Neville whispered into his ear.

"He needed you more," Harry said. "I understand that."

Strong arms wrapped around him and a chin rested on his shoulder. _Understanding doesn't make it easier._ The words were unsaid between them.

 

Harry thanked Merlin for the wireless in the greenhouse that day. Awkwardness seemed to infuse the three of them and Harry found himself sneaking glances at Neville and Draco as the day wore on. He was working on the large alihotsy tree at the back of the greenhouse; Neville said it had probably been hit by a stray _Avada Kedavra_. The tree was now withered and needed to be chopped down and the roots dismantled before it could be carted out of there.

Chopping at the wood was meditative, in a way, though the blisters on his hands were going to make him wish he could use magic for it before the day was out. But all that latent anger was being worked out, even if he felt guilty for being angry. The little boy that had lived in a cupboard was saying quite clearly that he should be able to have something that was just his; Neville should be his and he didn't need to share. Every time he'd been told to share with Dudley, he'd lost whatever it was. He'd even lost Ron and Hermione, in a way. But, Merlin, Draco's screams last night. That horrible retching in the seventh floor corridor.

This was the wizarding world: no one was going to offer them therapy. They only had each other.

"You should Vanish the glass before you work over there, Draco." Neville's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You'll end up with cuts all over you, if you don't."

"I –" Draco's hesitation made Harry look up. "Do you think you can do it?" He grimaced at his feet as he asked.

"Stop being a ponce and just Vanish the damned glass, Malfoy. For fuck's sake." Okay. The anger was clearly still in control.

"I would if I could, Potter, but I don't have a wand! You think I wouldn't have Transfigured a bed if I could? Conjured some clothes, or even made these fit better? Fuck you, Potter. They won't let me do magic until I've proven I'm _responsible_." The last was spit out, as bitter as Harry had ever heard him.

Draco walked out of the greenhouse and off towards the forest. Harry met Neville's eyes.

"This was a bad idea," Neville said.

"No one's going to help us except us."

Harry walked out as well, turning in the opposite direction, towards the castle and McGonagall.

 

The castle was busy with work, but it stopped as Harry walked in the doors. This was why he and Neville hadn't wanted to be here. So many people helping rebuild the castle were those who hadn't fought in the war. This seemed to be a way for them to assuage their guilt for staying silent as the world crumbled around them.

Harry didn't know whether he thought they needed to assuage anything: if he'd had a family and any sort of choice in the matter, maybe he would have avoided the front line as well. Unfortunately, the fact that these workers weren't Order people meant that they didn't know him, and they wanted to touch him and shake his hand and thank him, over and over again.

He pasted a smile on his face and allowed them to press his hand and kiss his cheek as he moved through the halls. Percy smiled at him and told him where to find the new Headmistress, so he made his way to the Great Hall.

"Professor?"

"I've told you time and again, Harry. You may call me Minerva." She was smiling, but must have seen something in his face because her face fell.

"I'll work on that. Would it be possible to speak to you in private?"

"Of course. Let's go to my office."

With the Headmistress by his side the workers didn't stop him to talk and they made their way quickly to the gargoyle.

"Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore said as they stepped inside.

"Headmaster." Harry nodded politely, but wanted to get straight to the point, so he turned to McGonagall. "Who can I talk to about allowing Draco to do magic again?"

"Harry?"

"He told me he has no wand and is not allowed to do magic. If he's going to help fix the school, he needs to be able to wield a wand. And in the school he's surrounded by hostile witches and wizards; what happens if he needs to defend himself?"

"Harry, this is a Wizengamot decision. They won't allow him to purchase a new wand. And do you want to use your political capital in giving Mr Malfoy the opportunity to use magic? Has he earned it?"

"He's a wizard, Headmistress. Magic is who he is. And if we don't show him that we trust him, how can he ever become part of our society again?"

"He needs to be punished for what he did."

"You mean letting Death Eaters into the school? He was still a minor. And as far as I'm aware, he didn't do anything wrong in the last year of the war. In fact, he was doing things right."

"Harry, I'm not even a member of the Wizengamot. There's nothing I can do."

"But they won't be able to trace it, my boy."

Harry and McGonagall both turned at the sound of Albus Dumbledore's voice.

"I'm sorry, Sir?"

"At Hogwarts, one person's magical signature is going to go largely unnoticed. If you can find Mr Malfoy a wand that responds to him, then no one will realize he's doing magic. He will, of course, need to be circumspect about it."

"Of course."

"I can't be hearing this. Either of you."

"If he's not able to buy a wand, Headmistress, then he won't be doing magic anyway. There'll be no rule-breaking on school grounds."

"I'm trusting you, Mr Potter."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Harry hoped that the look she gave him was the 'of course, as a Gryffindor, you're going to break the rules and I'm fine with it, but please don't get caught' look, since he knew exactly where to find a wand that would suit Draco Malfoy.

He hurried across the grounds to the hut, waving Neville back to the greenhouse when he stepped out. He quickly dug through his trunk until he got to the bottom where he pulled out a long, thin box. A quick check of his map showed Malfoy sitting on the far side of the lake, where he was probably hidden by the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry walked in that direction, tripping over tree stumps and slipping in mud until he tripped over a pair of legs.

"Shit."

"What do you want, Potter?" No laughter at almost falling on his face. No sardonic comment about his lack of grace. Just the question, devoid of emotion. Harry preferred the anger; at least Draco sounded alive. Maybe this would help.

"I wanted to give you this." Harry used the hem of his old t-shirt to wipe the mud off the box, then held it out. "I should have given it to you sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't think." He looked down at his feet as he spoke.

Draco stood slowly and reached out for the box. Harry watched his face as he opened it, searching for an expression. There was one, but not the one he expected. There was a flash of anger, before a careful blankness took over. This was different to the deadness of before. This was a mask, hiding something underneath.

"Is this some kind of joke, Potter? Because it's not a very funny one."

"I – no. No joke. Of course not a joke. It's your wand. For you to use."

"Maybe you missed me saying that I was not allowed to do magic."

"No, I heard. I went to McGonagall to ask her to change the ruling, but she couldn't. But Dumbledore said the magic of the grounds will hide anything you do. I mean, you can't do magic in front of anyone except me and Neville, but you can Transfigure a bed or Vanish the glass or make your clothes fit a bit better."

Draco looked unsure of the wand itself. He hesitated over the box, obviously trying to decide whether this was a good idea, or perhaps trying to figure out if there was some trick attached. Finally he closed his fingers around it and lifted it from the box.

He pointed it at Harry, and Harry resisted the urge to reach for his own. "You're not going to make me regret this, are you?"

Draco shook his head. With a swish and a flick, the mud he'd fallen in had vanished.

"Oh, I missed a bit, Potter. _Aguamenti_."

Water poured from the end of Draco's wand and he was drenched from head to toe, his hair sticking to his face and his glasses impossible to see through. Still, there was a blurry shape in black in front of him, and Harry bent his shoulder to the task and tackled Draco the few steps off the nearby pier and into the water.

"Harry!" Draco said as he broke the surface of the water, and there was actual laughter in his voice as he used Harry's first name. That was the only thought Harry needed to hold close as he sent his stag off with a message. It didn't take long for Neville to come running over to join them in the cool, dark water.

 

The wand brought more peace to their hut than Harry would have felt possible, so that Harry wondered if it was actually made from an olive tree. When he mentioned that idle thought as they finally cleared the shards of glass from the ground in Greenhouse Four, both men looked confused. Which was how he wound up giving both a crash course in Muggle mythology and idioms. And also discovering exactly what idioms were, when Draco haughtily explained.

It was as if having a wand reminded Draco of who he was, and suddenly he was happy to join them in the lake and relax for a break of tea and cookies in the morning. He was learning the words to the songs they listened to, and ganged up with Neville to convince Harry that the Weird Sisters were equally as valid a musical choice as Chumbawumba.

He transfigured the sofa and asked Harry to get Egyptian cotton sheets for both beds. And every night, as Neville and Harry murmured their good nights and walked through the door to the second room, Harry could feel Draco's eyes on his back and he wondered what to do about it.

They were into July, the heat unexpected in Scotland, but smothering nonetheless. The owls that had begun to arrive every morning made a point of glaring at him, as if it was his fault that people wanted to send him letters here at Hogwarts.

"I’m not sending a reply," he said to one particularly vicious screech owl. "So don't bother waiting."

He hissed in pain when the horrid thing bit him in response.

"Go sleep in the Owlery, you horrible creature." The owl responded to Draco's voice and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "What is all this mail, Harry?"

"Demands that I have a birthday celebration," he muttered, staring into the soggy cereal.

"I don't think anyone can demand you have a birthday celebration," Neville interjected. "I mean, it's your birthday."

"Well, the Ministry thinks they can, and I'm pretty sure Hermione will just come here and drag me off, if I refuse."

"I thought Granger was overseas."

"She got back last week. She would have visited, but she's helping her parents settle back in. She says I must have a party, though, and it would be better if it was a Ministry function, because I can begin using my political power. McGonagall said something about that as well."

"What do you want to do with your political power, Harry?"

Harry looked across at Draco, a wry smile on his face. "Make them leave me alone."

 

Finally Neville convinced him to have a few friends over for his, _their_ , birthday. Hermione added a couple of Ministry people, "for the fight for Werewolf Rights, Harry", and then Minerva invited the Order and they all brought 'just a guest, Harry,' and then they had to move their gathering to the Great Hall just due to the numbers and suddenly everyone helping rebuild Hogwarts was present at his birthday celebration.

Draco had stayed in their hut and it didn't take long for Harry to wish that he and Neville had stayed there as well. They hadn't advertised their relationship – Draco was the only one who knew – but Harry wasn't moving more than one step from Neville and it was probably becoming obvious. There was a cake and it was what he and Neville were staring at now in morbid fascination.

"Draco should see it," Harry said.

"He should. He'd find it as amusing as you do."

"Do you think they'd let you use the Sword of Gryffindor to behead it?" a silky voice came from behind them. "Again."

Harry didn't look away from the five-foot long, snake shaped cake that they stood in front of. He guessed that Draco was under his cloak and he didn't want to give away the position. It didn't stop him from sniggering.

"They might ask Harry to behead it this time," Neville said.

"Tell me we can leave before it's time to hack that thing to bits."

"Stand behind Harry for a second, Nev," Draco said. When did he start calling Neville Nev? "And meet us in the seventh floor corridor."

"Draco-"

"Shhh." The cloak opened for a moment and Harry found himself securely in its folds. They shuffled awkwardly towards the doors, following Neville, who was managing to clear the way for them. Ron's arm darted out and thankfully missed them, grabbing Neville and asking for an explanation of where he was going.

"Just the loo, mate," they heard him say as they darted around some new arrivals and out into the hall. Draco had an arm wrapped around his waist and they were pressed together chest to back as walked up the nearest flight of steps.

"Are you sure, Draco?" Harry finally said, to distract himself from the heat behind him that was making him heat up in a rather embarrassing manner. "We could go somewhere else. Hell, we could go home."

"I've been back a couple of times." Of course he had. "Just to…"

Harry didn't need any explanation; he didn't even need to ask why Draco hadn't asked for help. He understood it all perfectly. It didn't stop him saying, "We would have been there for you."

"I know."

"Okay."

They reached the third floor and Harry drew the cloak off of them only to see one of the summer workers walk out of a classroom. "Hey, aren't you -?"

"Run!" Harry grabbed Draco's hand and they went tearing past Fluffy's room, laughter bubbling out of both of them. They didn't stop until they reached the end of the fourth floor and were far from any living quarters. "Oh, my side. How'd I get so out of shape?"

"We should have brought brooms; it would have been easier."

Harry grinned at Draco's idea. " _Accio_ Firebolt! _Accio_ Nimbus!"

It took a minute, but soon he heard the familiar _whoosh_ of the brooms, along with footsteps running after them.

"I bags the Firebolt!" Draco said, just as the two brooms rounded the corner.

"Prat!" Harry called as he watched Draco leap onto the faster broom and tear up the stairs. Ron rounded the corner, disbelief on his face, but Harry couldn't stop. He grabbed the Nimbus as it flew past and urged it to go faster, following the flash of blond as it turned a corner.

"I've always wanted to do this," Draco yelled over his shoulder as they flew up the stairs and onto the uppermost floors of the castle. Harry grinned and flattened his body along the wood, trying to catch up to Draco.

He had an idea that they were going too fast; the corners were tight and misjudging would flatten them against the stonework, but he didn’t care. Draco flew at a dead end and pulled up at the last minute, turning upside down as a swimmer would before straightening and heading back towards Harry. Harry turned where he was, marvelling at how the Nimbus still handled, and took advantage of now being in the lead. He dived over the staircase and spiralled down into the well before veering off in the seventh floor. Neville was standing next to the door and Harry braked, dropping lightly to the ground next to him, hearing Draco behind him.

"You utter prats," Neville said, though there was a grin playing about his lips. "I took a Stunner for you two, getting caught up with Percy about ceremonies and the proper way to celebrate Liberation Day, and you're off flying about the castle. Which, I might add, left me with Ron asking why you were talking to each other in the first place."

"Can we make it up to you, Neville?"

"You can choose the movie." Harry began walking back and forth in front of the door.

"I've already got the room, Harry."

"I'm just tweaking it to make sure we're not disturbed. I'd rather not have an argument with anyone on my birthday."

They walked in to find one large couch in front of a television and a large selection of DVDs.

"This one has what looks like a Carnivorous Frogsblossom. Let's watch that." Neville put the DVD on and picked up the bowl of popcorn as he sat down on the other side of Draco.

"Are they meant to be singing?" Draco asked as the introductory text scrolled from the screen and the sound of women singing "Little Shop of Horrors" began to echo through the sound system that Harry knew would leave a cinema to shame. The castle really did like them.

"Horrors, Neville? Are you sure?"

"The cover says musical comedy."

"Musical like in the West End?" Draco said and Harry gave him a sharp look. "What? I go to the theatre."

Harry shrugged and settled in to watch the movie. He reflected that it was probably better that they had Draco in the middle, since it wouldn’t be easy being the third wheel if they started cuddling, as he and Neville normally did. Well, normally they ended up snogging, but they wouldn't do that with Draco right there. Still, he did feel like relaxing with his head against a convenient thigh or chest. He tried to ignore the fact that he didn't care whose thigh or chest it was and kept his back securely in the corner of the couch.

The case was right; the movie was pretty funny. Unfortunately, neither of his companions really understood all the humour and Harry ended up explaining some of the Muggle concepts to his companions.

"How do you manage the West End, Draco?"

"It's all in Italian. We did see The Phantom of the Opera, but that wasn't very confusing either. Now, what are these dentists? Are they a type of Muggle Death Eater?"

Harry snorted and wished he had Hermione with him to explain this. The dentist on the screen was clearly insane, taking great joy in pulling teeth and causing pain. The song even said that as a child he'd killed kittens and his mother told him that dentistry would be the perfect occupation given his sadistic tendencies.

"A dentist is a type of Healer that works on teeth. Straightening them and cleaning them and pulling rotten ones. Hermione's parents are both dentists."

Draco watched Steve Martin wrench a tooth from a patient with a type of fascinated horror. "Everything about the girl makes so much more sense now."

Harry snorted.

The final explanation that the plant was from outer space was also met with confusion.

"It's just a Frogsblossom," Neville said. "They're native to the Amazon, not outer space. They'll grow well enough in a greenhouse. Maybe I'll order one for my project next year."

"In the Muggle world, plants don't eat humans for lunch, Nev. The story needed an explanation."

"And they thought 'mean, green mother from outer space' was a sensible solution?" Draco asked dryly.

"Well, it's just a story. No one actually believes it happened."

"That's remarkably good to know. I was worried."

"Do you think this place will be deserted yet? I think I'm ready to sleep off the large amount of popcorn and cake." The castle had provided slices of the snake cake part way through the movie.

"It's not that late, Harry. We'd have to sneak out," Neville said.

"Who can be bothered?"

At his words, the couch shifted underneath them to form a very large bed and they were even wearing pyjamas all of a sudden. Harry was in boxer shorts and a t-shirt and Neville was in cotton sleep pants, the outfits that they'd worn when they first started sharing a house, before nudity became the sleepwear of choice. Draco was in dark blue silk and Harry liked the way the colour seemed to bring a blue tinge to his grey eyes.

Harry flopped down onto the pillow and pulled the covers up, given that the castle was still very cold, even in mid-summer.

"Do you want me to, uh…" Draco looked acutely uncomfortable. "I can swap with one of you."

Harry met Neville's eyes over the top of Draco's shoulder and saw that he was happy how they were as well.

"No. We're okay." He rolled onto his back and found he had enough room to sprawl how he liked as well, one leg bent at the knee the other almost hanging off the side of the bed. It was a big bed. "Good night."

He was wondering if Draco was going to be able to fall asleep, surrounded by them as he was. But his awareness of that heat next to him stopped him from speaking and before he could worry about it more, he was asleep.

 

Harry woke to the familiar weight of Neville's hand on his hip. The hand was large and solid and had a comforting warmth even when outside of the covers on a cold night. Harry smiled and shifted and the hand drifted up to his waist. A leg insinuated itself between his thighs and Harry pressed back mindlessly before his eyes suddenly opened wide. That was silk or satin or something that started with 's' and felt expensive. It wasn't Neville's utilitarian cotton. And the leg was thin and not at all familiar.

He was in bed with Malfoy.

Clearly Malfoy woke as well because there was a sudden tension in that leg and then it drew carefully back, as if afraid to wake him. Harry drew on every drop of experience he'd had pretending to be asleep while listening to his best mate wank in the bed next to him while calling out his _other_ best friend's name while they all shared a tent, and carefully regulated his breathing. Draco slid from between the two of them and climbed off the end of the bed. There was a whispered spell and Harry opened his eyes in time to see the blond head disappear under the Invisibility Cloak and then the door opened and closed.

He turned and found Neville's brown eyes staring at him.

"What are we doing?" he asked, not even sure exactly what he was asking about. Neville didn't answer, just drew Harry's hand forward to grasp his hard cock.

"I knew it was Draco, Harry." The eyes suddenly looked horribly uncertain. "I knew it was Draco I was pressed up against; wanted it to be Draco I sank into. I'm sorry." His voice had trailed off into a whisper.

His hand flexed around Neville's cock and he heard a growl low in his throat. "I want to see it," he said. He rolled over and covered Neville's body. "I want him with us. Can you imagine it?"

He let his weight press Neville onto the bed and ground his cock down onto Neville's answering hardness.

"He'd fit between us, Nev. You fucking him and him fucking me. That blond hair all mussed up."

"I like the idea of him fucking you, Harry, while you suck me off."

Harry latched his mouth onto Neville's neck and bit down at that image. He remembered himself and licked the spot better as Neville continued.

"You do like that idea, don't you, Harry? Such a little s-slut." Neville stammered over the word, still a little unsure about that sort of language. Harry responded by bracing his knee so that he could grind down harder.

"Fuck, yes. Filled at both ends. That taste of you spurting down my throat. All over my face, maybe."

At that comment, Neville's hands finally moved down to his arse and held him still as he pushed up.

"Fuck, Harry. Feel so good."

"Yes," Harry gasped out. He moved against Neville's hard cock and imagined, for just a second, that it was Draco's, long and slim like him, and hard and strong at the same time, and perfect against him and his balls drew up. Neville's teeth were digging into his shoulder and his cock was spurting between them and as the warm fluid coated his cock Harry came, the pleasure hitting him from his toes to the tips of his messy hair and drawing a moan that sounded almost feral to his ears.

He rested his forehead against Neville's as he struggled to draw breath. "What are we doing?" he asked again.

"No idea. But I think we should be doing it with Draco."

 

Unfortunately, Draco turned out to be hard to pin down over the next few days. It wasn't that he avoided them; avoidance was out of the question considering the conditions of Draco's parole and the work they were doing. Still, it was like having a ghost in their quarters. And not a wizarding world ghost; a Muggle ghost who floated around saying nothing during the day and made soft sounds of distress at night. But even when the sounds escaped his Silencing Charm, Harry and Neville could do nothing to help because Draco had wards set around his bed.

He wondered briefly if Neville was right, if it would have been better for Draco to have stayed in the castle. It was all well and good for them to decide to start the healing by taking Draco in, but the awkwardness was getting to him, and he didn't like the way Neville was staying in the gardens later and later each night.

To make matters worse, waiting for Ron to turn up and yell at him was winding him up tighter than a two Sickle watch and he couldn't sleep more than an hour without waking with a scream dying in his throat and his heart thudding. By the time Wednesday rolled around, he was surviving on thirteen hours’ sleep over four days. When his head started bobbing over the weeding, he got sent to bed for a siesta.

He crawled onto Draco's couch, telling himself it was because it was too early for bed and not because the pillow smelled of the blond, and fell into the first restful sleep he'd had since the night in the Room of Requirement.

Of course, it was at this point that Ron finally shook off his keepers and turned up.

"Harry!"

He sat up quickly, not realizing how close to the edge of the couch he was, and ended up tangled in sheets on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Ron said with sudden concern. He waited until Harry nodded before he spoke again. "Then you can tell me what the hell you were thinking, running off with the ferret the other night!"

"Took you a while." Harry rubbed the grit out of his eyes. It felt like he'd fallen asleep face down in some newly-turned earth.

"It took me that long to decide I wasn't imagining things! It was Nev under Polyjuice, wasn't it? Tell me it was Nev."

"It was Draco."

" _Draco?_ When did he become DRACO?"

"He's working with us, Ron. He's been staying here with us."

"You're not afraid he's going to slice your throat while you sleep?"

Harry heard a sound at the door and turned to see a flash of blond running towards the lake. "Draco!" he called, but of course the fleeing figure didn't pause, and he was better off dealing with Ron first. He smiled gratefully as Neville elected to step into the room rather than follow Draco.

"Trusting our judgment would go a long way right now, Ron," Neville said in that calm way of his.

"I can't trust your judgment, because you have both _lost your minds_."

"Draco saved our lives, Ron."

"Who cares? He's always been a miserable little shit to us and he's one of _them_. Don't you remember? Death Eaters in the school? Dumbledore dead? Fred is _dead_ because of _him_."

"It was a battle, Ron. And you know Draco wasn't there."

Ron's whole body was rigid with fury, his face the sort of red that clashed with his hair.

"War changes people, Ron. Draco's changed. And we want to heal and let go of all the hate. Is that too much to ask?"

"How much could he have changed, Harry? We were tramping around the countryside carrying around bits of You-Know-Who, while he was holed up safe here!"

Harry saw Neville reel back like he was slapped and Harry found he was too angry to point out how completely out of line Ron was being.

"Trust me when I tell you that Hogwarts was safe for no one last year, Ron." The fury vibrating in Neville's voice was all the more worrying for how soft his words were. "The Carrows rarely made distinctions and Draco was treated as poorly as any Hufflepuff. You may have been out there hiding, but we were living in a prison camp. There's no one who was here last year who isn't changed."

Ron's eyes were wide and he took a step back, although Neville hadn't moved.

"Go home, Ron," Harry said. He thought he sounded as old as Dumbledore today. "Maybe you shouldn't visit again for a while."

Ron walked out quickly, and Harry stared at the empty spot where he'd been for a long moment. Finally he turned to Neville and was not surprised to see him turn and walk out as well. Harry watched through the window as he turned away from the dark speck sitting by the lake and made his way to the gardens.

 

Harry ate dinner alone that night. He saw Neville walk out the gates towards Hogsmeade, but he had no idea what Draco was doing. It was conceivable that he'd chosen to skip dinner – he would have gone unfed many times in Azkaban – but Harry prayed that he'd decided to sneak into the kitchens. He thought the elves would feed him, no matter what Draco had done in the past.

By the time the sun had set and Harry had been staring at the same page for over an hour while telling himself he wasn't paying attention to the sounds outside the hut, neither of his housemates had returned. At least if he lay down, he could stop pretending to read and just stare into space and wallow in his worry in as much peace as he could muster.

He didn't know how much time passed before he heard the door open. He could hear noises in the other room and concluded that it was Draco as the door to the bedroom didn't open. He tried to decide whether to go out there or not and when the noises ceased, he made his decision.

"Draco?"

The only indication that Draco had heard him was a slight tension in his shoulders.

"I kicked Ron out. Told him he was being a dick." The silence remained. "Nev and I don't agree with him, you know."

"Not worried about being murdered in your sleep?"

"No. Actually, I was wondering if you'd come share the bed tonight. Nev hasn't come home and," Harry paused, not really believing that he was going to share this with Draco Malfoy. "And I can't sleep very well by myself."

Draco turned on the couch, eyes a bright spot in the darkness. He had a faint smile on his face when he said, "Scared of the dark, Potter?" Harry wasn't sure what made this insult different to all the ones from school, but it was. There was compassion there, even as Draco was lightening the mood. He'd known, of course, that Draco had changed; had said as much to Ron just that day. But when Draco got lightly to his feet and walked towards him, ethereal in the faint moonlight coming in through the windows, Harry suddenly understood the depth of the change.

He stepped aside and Draco walked past, climbing onto the middle of the bed.

"Thanks," Harry said, settling in beside him. "It means a lot to me."

He took a chance and pressed a soft kiss to Draco's lips, then tucked himself under Draco's chin. He felt the pressure of a kiss on his crown as he dropped off to sleep.

 

Harry wasn't sure what it was that woke him during the night; some instinct born of life with the Dursleys perhaps, or a sound from the door. He opened his eyes, careful not to disturb Draco, who had ended up spooned behind him. Neville was silhouetted in the door, body leaning against the frame, dark shadows accentuating his long lines.

He moved and Harry could see glimpses of his expression as he walked through a shaft of light. Were his lips tightened in anger or was that the hint of a smile? It was still too dark for Harry to tell.

Neville stood by the side of the bed and stripped out of his clothes, leaving on his boxers, then climbed into bed beside Harry. He kissed Harry, soft and slow, and then leaned over Harry's shoulder, and Harry realized he was kissing Draco, and Harry hadn't even realized Draco was awake.

"I think I need to be held tonight," he murmured. "If that's alright."

Harry nodded and held his arm up while Neville nestled his back into Harry's chest. Draco's arm moved so that it lay across Harry's waist and his hand rested on Neville's hip and Harry was feeling squished, but in a decidedly good way. Draco's lips rested momentarily on his nape and Harry passed the touch to Neville, who squirmed and let out a happy sigh.

"Good night," Neville said, and it didn't take long for all of them to fall off to sleep and take the memory of their brief interlude into Harry's dreams.

 

When Harry woke, the dawn light was drifting in through the windows, making the bed glow. Something hard was pressing against his arse. He wriggled delightedly, wondering for a moment why there was body warmth at both his front and back. Then the hips behind him began moving and he let out a soft moan.

"Harry?" Neville said. Harry pressed his hips forward, rubbing his slowly growing erection into Neville's arse. Neville hummed softly and turned on the bed, meeting Harry's eyes. "Morning."

"Morning," Harry whispered. Neville was leaning towards him and Harry closed his eyes to wait for those lips to meet his, but instead Neville's chin brushed his shoulder and Draco's hair brushed his nape and Harry realized that they were kissing over him. And it was fine, more than fine. It was great, because when Draco moaned in the back of his throat, his hips started moving – undulating – as well, and Neville's arms had reached to caress Draco and had ended up trapping Harry between the two strong bodies.

"Yes," he breathed and Neville broke away with a chuckle.

"He tastes good, Harry. You kiss him."

Harry shifted obediently and met Draco's lips with his own and even at too early o'clock or whatever the hell time it was, Draco was ambrosia. Harry was sure one of the school owls had nested in his mouth for the night, but Draco tasted of mint and strawberries.

"Breath freshening charm?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry nodded with a blush and seconds later, his own mouth tasted minty fresh and he went straight back to the kissing.

The bed shifted and Harry realized that Neville was crawling over their bodies and had started to pull off his boxers. Harry just lifted his hips to ease their way and Neville turned to Draco.

"Alright, Malfoy?"

"Yes. Please." And that was how Harry found himself naked in bed with a naked Draco Malfoy. And a naked Neville Longbottom, if the feel of a hard cock rubbing against his thigh was anything to go by.

"I want to taste you properly," Harry said, breaking the kiss. He was suddenly sure he'd die if that hardness pressing against his own didn't make it into his mouth. He pushed Draco to his back and let Neville move around him to press kisses to Draco's neck and suck his nipples to what looked like painful hardness.

Harry paused over Draco's cock and wondered for just a moment if this was really happening. It could be a dream. But the scents were too real. He flicked a tongue out to capture the drop of moisture on the tip. The tastes were too real. His lips stretched to take it into his mouth and Harry thought that not even his subconscious could have thought up a moment this perfect.

Neville's fingers were in his hair, gently stroking his scalp and bringing moans to Harry's lips, which then escaped around Draco's cock.

"Do you want to be inside Harry, Draco? Feel how tight he is around your cock?" At Neville's words, Draco thrust up into Harry's mouth, seemingly unable to find words.

It was up to Harry to say, "Yes."

Neville moved away from Draco and soon Harry felt hands on his arse. "Wider, Harry." Harry spread his knees and Neville rewarded him with a well-lubricated thumb making small circles around his puckered hole. The thumb eased inside and Harry hummed his pleasure before Draco shoved him away.

"Too close," the blond muttered and Harry just nodded and rested his forehead against that pale thigh. He knew every gasp and sigh that Neville wrung from him was ghosting across Draco's sensitive skin and he liked the way it made the man writhe. Draco's soft hand was tentative in his hair and Harry pushed against it, demanding the caresses he always craved.

Neville's fingers brushed his prostate and the groan seemed to come from deep in his gut. He pulled away, desperate for a cock in his arse before he came untouched. He straddled the slim hips and paused above Draco's erection while Neville smeared it with lubricant.

"Slowly," Neville said. He'd inched up the bed to cradle Harry in his arms, his erection pressing against the arse that was spread for Draco. For one brief moment, Harry wondered what it would be like to have both cocks inside him; both men filling him until he felt whole again. Then Neville was easing him down and Harry promised himself that next time he'd try it, but for now, he had to concentrate on the way Draco flushed as he breached Harry and the way his cock felt like beautiful fire inside him.

Neville's cock was a hard heat against his lower back and every time he moved, Harry felt Neville's fingers clench against his hips. Neville's lips moved across his neck and Draco grasped a hand and drew a finger into his mouth.

"Meant to be taking care of Draco," he managed to gasp.

"You are," Draco said, moving his hands to join Neville's on Harry's hips. Harry felt their fingers twine together and he knew Draco was looking past him at Neville, who had his head resting on Harry's shoulder. They were joined, all three of them, and it made Harry feel safe and warm and happier than he'd been in a long time.

Neville's hand moved towards his cock, but Harry grabbed it and moved it back to his hip. He kept his hand there, covering both of theirs.

"Just –" He gasped as Draco's cock rubbed that sweet spot inside and tilted his hips to make sure the friction stayed there. "Just don't let me stop moving."

The hands on his hips tightened, pulling him down hard as Draco's hips snapped up to meet him.

"Fuck," Neville said beside his ear. "Both so gorgeous. Look so hot."

And Draco did. His hair was plastered to his face by sweat and his neck was arched, his throat bared as if offering surrender. His eyes were wide and smoky-grey and Harry knew he was getting close.

"Not yet," he begged, knowing he'd come if only there were a few more strokes inside him. "Please, not yet." But Draco was already crying out and Harry paused to watch the pleasure play over his features.

Draco started to apologise, but was silenced by Neville taking firm control. "Up, Harry," he said, and Harry quickly raised himself off of Draco only to have Neville push straight into him. Neville was still on his knees and he pulled Harry down onto his lap. "Are you going to come for us, Harry? Spill yourself all over Draco?"

"No." That was Draco. "Come in my mouth," he said, as he scrambled up onto his knees.

"Oh, Merlin," Neville and Harry moaned in unison and then Draco's lips were around his cock and Harry wanted to wait, wanted to savour this moment, but he was so fucking close, that when Draco sucked at the same time as Neville thrust, all he could do was hold on as he spilled obediently down Draco's throat. He was vaguely aware of Neville holding him still and pulsing inside him, but he felt each and every kiss that both men were pressing to whatever skin they could reach.

When they collapsed, it was with Draco between them and Harry clasped Neville's hands in his and rested them both above Draco's heart as he fell back into sleep.

 

When Harry woke again, it was to the weight in front of him shifting. In a move eerily similar to the morning after his birthday, Draco was attempting to crawl from between them. Harry's hand snapped out as if it were reaching for a snitch and he held Draco where he was.

"It's Draco," he said, as if Harry had forgotten who he'd fallen asleep beside.

"I know."

"I was going to get up."

"Do you need to piss?"

"It's not yet a pressing need."

"Then stay," Harry said, squeezing Draco's hand. Neville's hand joined theirs and Harry let loose the small sigh that had been threatening to escape. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this happy. He felt Draco suck in a breath and just knew he was going to ruin it. "Shh."

"But-"

"Draco. Don't."

The body shifted a little and he knew Draco was levering himself up.

"Can't-"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Neville mumbled. "I need more sleep."

There was a thud as Draco dropped back onto the pillow and soon the breathing dropped into a steady rhythm.

 

An hour later, it was Harry who needed to piss and Draco followed him out of bed, leaving Neville still dozing. Draco reached for the sugary cereal and Harry set the bowls in front of them.

"Why doesn't he ever get nightmares?" Draco asked, nodding towards the bedroom.

Harry pondered this as he poured milk over the sugar-frosted flakes of corn. "I used to think it was because he had less to feel guilty about. You know, I feel guilty for everyone who was hurt or died while we were running around the country trying to decipher clues left by Dumbledore, and I thought that no matter how horrifying it was here, at least it was black and white – the Carrows were the bad guys and protecting the younger kids was all that it was about. But Neville feels guilty for all the kids who were tortured under his watch. Then I thought he had a Dreamless Sleep addiction. I finally figured out that he works harder than I do, so that even his brain is exhausted and the dreams can't sneak in."

"So we're digging ‘til we drop today?"

"I've also found amazing sex is good for pushing the dreams away," Neville said and Harry spun around to see Neville leaning against the door frame. He pushed himself off of it and walked to the table, dropping a kiss on Harry's hair. "I woke up alone."

"You came to bed later. I wanted to let you sleep."

"And I didn't want to –" Draco stopped, obviously looking for the right word.

"Intrude?"

"Yeah."

Neville carried his bowl to the table and pressed a kiss to the top of Draco's head as well. "You won't. I'm not sure about Harry, but I want this. The three of us, I mean."

"I want it, too," Harry added quickly. "It makes sense."

"But Weasley-"

"Will get over it. As will the rest of the wizarding world."

"One of the benefits of dating a bona fide hero." Neville sent a smile Harry's way.

"They'll tear you down."

"Well, it's happened before. We'll just get up again, like we always do," Harry said.

"Draco, if you're not interested, just say so. We won't push it. Say, hey, it was a fun night, but I'm not into whatever weird-arse thing the two of you want to have going on. We'll walk away and leave you alone." Neville's hand was resting on Draco's hand as he spoke and Harry noticed Draco's fingers twitching, as if they wanted to cling to that lifeline.

"But if you're scared, Draco," Harry added, "Of your reputation hurting us, or of what people will say, or even of caring, then please let us try to work through it together."

"You two are really into the deep conversations, you know that?"

"Yeah. We have this weird communication thing going. It's probably Hermione's fault." Harry added his hand to the pile across from him.

"I'm not sure how comfortable I am with that."

"Well, are you comfortable sharing our bed? And having hot sex at regular intervals?"

"Yes."

"Cuddling?"

"Yes." Draco's eyes shone with humour.

"And you're not going to say that you're uninterested in us?"

"Harry. Neville. I am very interested in whatever weird-arse thing we have going. Let's go explore it in more detail with nudity and a dip in the Black Lake."

Harry grabbed apples for all three of them while Neville found towels and Draco sat back and watched. Before long they were walking towards the lake and Harry tried to pay attention to the feel of the grass under his feet and the sun on his back. There were moments the year before when he thought he'd never experience this again. The other two pulled ahead and he paused for a second to watch them strip down to trunks and wade into the water.

"Coming, Potter?" Draco called over his shoulder.

Harry nodded and pulled his shirt over his head. No time to brood about the past. He had lovers – and the future – waiting for him.


End file.
